Undressed Norja 1- Rahat colony stories

1 Elevator

Chapter 1: The Crowded Lift

Rahat Colony was one of those housing societies where life seemed to buzz at all hours. The eighteen-floor tower stood tall, casting long shadows over the narrow lanes below. Its balconies were lined with drying clothes, plants, and the occasional curious eye, watching the ebb and flow of daily life.

Norja adjusted her cotton top as she waited for the lift on the ground floor. The thin fabric clung to her damp skin, thanks to the relentless September humidity. She had just returned from the market, her jute bag heavy with vegetables and groceries, the evening meal already forming in her mind. Her daughter, Kapila, was now eighteen and often lost in her own world—one that seemed to revolve increasingly around her studies and the occasional blush-inducing thoughts about their neighbor, Karan.

The lift dinged, and the steel doors slid open. It was crowded, as usual. Residents squeezed in, eager to reach their floors. Norja hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, careful not to brush against anyone.

But then she saw him—Karan. He was standing in the far corner of the lift, dressed in nothing but tight cycling shorts and a sleeveless vest that clung to his sweat-glistened body. His presence hit her like a wave, sending a surge of warmth through her veins. Karan, with his broad shoulders, chiseled chest, and those smoldering eyes that seemed to see right through her, made her feel things she hadn't allowed herself to feel in years.

She felt her breath hitch, her heart beating faster than it should. He wasn't supposed to be here, not now, not when she was feeling this vulnerable, this aware of every inch of her own body.

The lift was already too full, and as more people pressed in, Norja had no choice but to move closer to Karan. She felt a shiver of anticipation mixed with anxiety as she stepped into the corner beside him, the small space forcing their bodies closer than was decent.

His arm brushed against hers as she settled in, sending a jolt of electricity through her. The air between them was thick with something unsaid, something that was both thrilling and terrifying. The soft cotton of her top barely served as a barrier, and she could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mingling with the scent of his sweat and faint cologne.

Norja's pulse quickened as she became acutely aware of her own body—how the fabric of her top clung to her curves, how her heart raced in her chest, and how her thoughts, traitorous as they were, began to spiral.

Karan shifted, just slightly, but enough for her to feel the firmness of his chest against her side. She caught her breath, her mind spinning. This was wrong—he was too young, too virile, and she was a widow, a mother. But the way his body brushed against hers, the way his breath seemed to match her own, it was too much to ignore.

Karan's thoughts were a swirl of desire and restraint. He had noticed Norja long ago, the way she moved with a grace that was both demure and alluring. Her soft brown eyes, the gentle curve of her lips, and the way she carried herself with a quiet dignity—all of it had drawn him in like a moth to a flame. But today, standing this close to her, he couldn't stop the flood of desire that surged through him.

He could feel her warmth, the soft press of her body against his, and it was driving him mad. The lift seemed to crawl upward, each second stretching into eternity. He could smell her, the subtle scent of soap and something floral, mixed with the faintest hint of the spices she must have handled at the market. It was intoxicating.

He adjusted his stance, his cycling shorts shifting slightly, and his thigh brushed against hers. The contact sent a thrill down his spine, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to feel her skin against his, to explore every inch of her in ways that were far from innocent.

Norja's breath quickened, and she cursed herself for it. She was supposed to be above these feelings, but the heat of his body, the subtle strength in his movements, and the way their bodies kept brushing against each other—it was too much.

The lift jolted to a stop at the 12th floor, and a few people shuffled out, giving them a little more space. But instead of moving away, Karan stayed close, his presence overwhelming her senses. She could feel the tension between them, thick and undeniable, as if the very air was charged with their unspoken desires.

When the doors slid shut again, Norja could feel Karan's gaze burning into her. She kept her eyes down, afraid of what she might see if she looked up—afraid of what she might do if she gave in to the urge to look back at him.

By the time the lift reached her floor, Norja was trembling. She stepped out quickly, desperate to escape the intensity of the moment, but as she did, she felt Karan's fingers brush against hers—light, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver through her entire body.

The doors closed behind her, and she stood in the dim hallway, trying to steady herself. She couldn't allow these thoughts to take root—she had responsibilities, a daughter to look after, and no room for such dangerous distractions.

Yet, as she walked away, her heart still racing, she knew that the feeling of his body against hers, the electricity in that brief, forbidden touch, would haunt her for a long time to come.

🌟to be continued🌟